Hidden Blank-Point
by RauserAddron
Summary: Two nations, and a secret secured for almost a whole millennium. What happens if the covers are pulled away? AU, non slash. Humor with bits of mood whiplashes thrust into it.
1. Chapter 1

If there was anything she could say about her and her brother's performance, it was the astonishing fact that everyone fell for it pathetically, like mice into a mouse trap. For so many years only three people knew, and even in the 21st century, no one had a clue! No one knew of the well-hidden secret, and she certainly wasn't going to let it out.

Her younger brother had the credit for this spectacular achievement, having thought of it a long time ago.

_"You— you're going to pretend to be someone other than yourself?" she gasped, her hand covering her lips in surprise. Her brother smiled kindly, and took her free hand with a flourish, eyes looking into her soul._

_"It's for the best. With everyone thinking I'm the better sibling, they'll never lay a finger on you," he replied as he caresses her fingers, sighing as he took in the implications and sacrifice of his master plan. "You, in turn, must act more aggressive if this plan is to work. Sorella, assure me that you do so."_

_She could only nod as her brother lets go of her hand and stares off into the sky._

_"Chiarra," he says, smile becoming bitter in less than a second. "No, not Chiarra. Lovino would work."_

_The sun seemed to sympathize with the two siblings sitting on the shade of an olive tree. She could only look at her brother in pure awe and astonishment. He certainly inherited their Grandfather's maturity and knowledge._

_"I will strive my best to rid their attention towards you." Hazel eyes were aglow with determination as Feliciano leaned on the tree. "Spain will do for a caretaker. I will tell this to our Nonno to make sure that he is in accordance. Ch— Lovino, see you soon."_

She could only laugh on how the majority of nations bought the trick. How could they actually think the nation who happened to be a catalyst to the Renaissance, a co-founder of the G8, and held many of the world's breakthroughs an idiot? Her brother certainly ran deeper than what the others thought. They would never be able to believe that Veneziano, the so-called pasta fool, be the planner for what could be the largest trick in the world. And certainly will they not believe how he ran the Mafia himself. It was a grand laid out blueprint, nearly _impossible _to unfold.

They never knew that under the façades was Italy Veneziano truly the protective one, and also self-sacrificing to boot. He was a talented actor, the mask he wore was never easily broken. Still, it didn't mean it never slipped: he had angrily tried to strangle Mussolini just after the March on Rome (his anger was not in vain, as the Fascist leader was killed by angered citizens), and the full brunt of his fury towards Turkey, who had been planning to colonize his land, was one not to be easily forgotten. And still the other countries were overwhelmed by his false naïvety. Italy Romano, as they knew _her _from the outside, was violent and easily jealous, a reason for other nations to loathe his presence. They never knew the subdued self inside, and it put her to hysterics just thinking on how they failed to see through the glass.

She remembered the smirk Feliciano wore after Germany himself moved away from the darker Italian, disgusted. She saw the victorious glint in his eyes when France quickly distanced himself upon seeing Lovino. He had advised her to have a 'protective-jealous' image for further safety. And it worked perfectly as they had planned.

Spain, meanwhile, though the nation rarely showed it, was a strong advisor. He was the one who taught her to bind her chests properly and without notice from others. He was also the one who gave her the beige jacket she so often wore in public. It was his idea to, whenever other nations are around, have her act like an immature man with him around. The others actually thought it was a homosexual romance between the two, or so they thought. Fools they were indeed, as he loved her like a true daughter, and it was by no means romantic.

The biggest thing she knew that others did not was that he was a thoughtful being with sincere intentions.

_"Here, Chiarra," Spain happily announced, grinning as he showed the female nation in disguise a pink maid's dress. She barely concealed her gasp._

_"Why?"_

_He only shrugged before cupping her youthful face in his hands, pulling her up carefully._

_"So you can remember your true self."_

_She smiled back at her adoptive father. He was such a kind soul._

Another concern for Spain and Veneziano was her appearance. While she never really had the broad shoulders suited for a man, Spain's suit was padded, soft enough to be comfortable and hard enough to not droop and create the effect they were all looking for. It was also a fortune that she had grown tall, well, not truly taller than her brother, as she wore moderate heels to assume that appearance in contrast to her brother. Feliciano himself was the person responsible for her hairdo, and Spain would help him along the way, the two nations giving great care to not come in contact with her hair curl. Spain, as he was talented with secret negotiations, often took care in buying the accessories for ladies, and then leave her alone after that. All in all, it was highly effective. She would have to thank them for making life easier.

Indeed, she was blessed.

* * *

And yet another World Conference in occurrence. Of course something was meant to go wrong.

"I'm the Almighty Hero!"

"Sod off, you fool!"

"Ve~ Germany, maybe we can eat some pasta!"

Romano sat in her seat, snorting as she observes the Bad Friends Trio huddle together, laughing as Hungary furiously attempts to attack the suspects who put grease on her national papers.

The meeting room was in chaos. Paperwork were strewn everywhere, from windows to the carpeted floor where two English-speaking nations wrestled each other. Germany sat nearby them, sighing, as Italy held his shoulder affectionately, mumbling 'Ve' repeatedly.

Then, Germany stood up, infuriated at everyone and slammed a fist on the table.

"Will you SHUT UP?!"

The effects on America and England were immediate, as both of them hurried to mutter ' sorry' and returned to their respective seats, looking at Germany. For a moment Spain shot Romano a look that told her to act in character, and she returns it with a short wink. Her eyes find Italy, who was doing his usual, eyes closed and smiling.

Germany glared at both England and America, as his teal eyes narrowed at the sight of Romano giving a hostile stare at his younger brother. He took a deep breath.

"We are here to solve problems, not to create them, do you understand?"

England made a reluctant nod, thick eyebrows appearing to be resisting an urge to be raised high on his forehead. America only responded with a "Yes, sir!" before sitting back down.

The meeting continued as usual, with the main discussion being the increasing concerns with Israel's situation, and climate change following shortly.

Then Romano's wish came true. A break was then devised, and a majority of the nations quickly began to have meals, and the remainder going to the toilet.

It was there she was pulled to the barren hallway by none other than her brother.

He calmly pulled back her left sleeve, wincing as he saw the bruise on her elbow.

"How is it?" he asked, staring at the feature that blemished her hidden beauty with guilt crossing his expression.

She bit her lip. It was her fault in truth, having clumsily fallen to the stony soil in a fencing practice. In return, he told her that they're postponing training until she recovers, much to her disappointment.

He was rather overprotective, as she saw in his reactions when he finds her hurt. Like Lovino, she disliked being defenseless, so she decided to ask either Spain or Veneziano about such things to learn to defend herself. It had taken her a full ounce of coercion (plus puppy dog eyes) to get her extremely reluctant brother to train her, and he still showed disdain whenever he struck her. He had told her once that he loathed ruining her delicate looks.

_Why are women so vulnerable? _she'd asked herself for several times. She remembered when she had cut herself while trying to return a favor to him, and she cried like a child. Her brunt aggressiveness, she knew, was a lie, as was Feliciano's adorable cowardice. _He _had been the one to have embraced her when she sobbed, having dealt with their Grandfather's passing. He was the one who in their younger years soothed her after she received nightmares. He was the one who lent a hand to help her up. He loved her no matter what she was.

Her thoughts returned to reality when she felt that Veneziano was shaking her carefully.

"I'll drive you home, if you want."

She shook her head solemnly, tears threatening to brim from the edges of her eyes.

"We're going to finish this damn meeting, _fratellino._"

Italy backed away and rolled her sleeve back into place, passing a charming smile that could swoon a hundred women. He immediately returned to his innocent stance when Japan passed by, black eyes harboring curiosity. For that instantaneous moment she could have felt her heart drop in fear of being found out.

Italy waved back excitedly at his former ally as Romano allowed her shock to pass, and she felt her brother's hand rested on her waist, silently assuring her that he will be always there to support her, _no matter what happens._

They walked back to the meeting room in a better mood to continue the day.

In the huge performance of lies, there is still room for truth.

* * *

End Chapter One.

A/N: I will be alternating the use between human and national names for the characters, notably the main cast.

**_Slight grammatical corrections and added horizontal lines: 08/27_**

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


	2. Chapter 2

"Chi-_arra!_"

Romano groaned in frustration. _When on earth will Spain stop greeting me with that name? _When she felt that Spain's hand was pushing through her hair, she promptly pushed it away and yanked the blankets on top of her head. She needed to sleep for a while longer.

"Chiarra, haven't you told Feli that you're going to his house?" Spain's voice went up a tone higher as his hand shook her harder from her sleep. "He'll _die _if you don't come in time."

That was when Romano promptly slapped him across the face, without warning. A red mark instantly formed just above her adopted father's chin. She paled in horror.

"Crap. I am so sorry," she apologized quickly, pulling down her blankets and revealing her unbound chest under her tank top for a moment before she realized that there was a man's presence in the room and instantly covered it.

By then, Spain was as red as his cheek mark, chagrined by what he had seen earlier. Sure, he helped her bind it down, but he certainly didn't like seeing them for real. He laughed nervously.

"I— I'll go get your bi—bindings for a while," he stammered, bolting up from his seat and running to get the bindings, having forgotten that he was slapped earlier. Romano fought back a sigh. _Boys._

* * *

"I'm late. He's going to _kill _me."

Romano mercilessly shoved random citizens in the sidewalk in irritation to her latency, earning threats and swears along the way.

She came to a stop when she caught sight of the beige house.

"A-ha!" she thought victoriously, quickly running from the steps to the ornate oak door. Staring at the bronze knocker for a while, she then began to pull it lightly.

Before the door instantly swung open and nearly made her crash to the floor face-first. She was lucky that he had grabbed her at the last minute. He sighed.

"If they find out how light you are in reality," he murmured in a medium voice, his words flowing smoothly. He often used his falsetto (coupled with ridiculous pronunciations) to everyone else, always careful as to not slip and assume his true tones.

"I'm fine, _fratellino,_" she huffed back in reply, pushing herself away and standing upright in a gruff voice. It had been quite a while she used her normal tones, which Veneziano once compared to 'light winds smoothing a down feather', and even then, she avoided using it. Her brother was the better actor of them both.

She did once cry in public, earning her a sigh courtesy of Spain, who was dead-worried that she let her emotions leam through. It was better that he didn't know that it happened once.

She quietly entered the living room, sitting on a couch as her brother looked at her with a bittersweet smile.

"How is your bruise?" he asked, staring at her left sleeve with cautious eyes.

"Fine, just fine." A half-truth. It wasn't in optimal conditions, but it didn't hurt as badly as on the day she got it, because she's not meant to cry over it and act _pathetic_. She hated being pathetic in front of men, and especially her brother. Of course he was younger, but years from both the bad and good side gave him a clear view of the spectrum of life, and she knew internally that she can possibly never see the world as he did. From heart he was more mature, and her the more innocent and _pathetic._ But that was why they did this in the first place, right? He wanted her to be avoided being targeted by men. That was why they came up with the woven web of lies, lies exposed to the outside world. Because female nations were always seen to be _pathetic _and _vulnerable._ Because she hated being pathetic. But it couldn't come without sacrifices. She threw her identity away, she concealed her true feelings, and she restrained her anguish and sorrow. She sacrificed _herself._ Ah, the irony! In turn her brother also sacrificed many things. He allowed his reputation to be tarnished. He had to work in secret with the constant threat of being found out. He gave up his identity just as she had. It was horrible for them, yet it worked out for the better.

She was _safe _and _secure, _and her brother never having to drown in _constant worry._ But secrets will be revealed in the end, she told herself. One day the walls will just come down and everyone will realize that they were entangled in a jumble. Still, he promised her that he will be there for her in the end.

But they _needed _to talk realistically for now. She wanted, _required _to stop thinking of this. She had to continue this game without thinking of the consequences. _Because it will work out in the end, _Spain had said to her.

Because they loved each other, and it will be just enough.

* * *

Weekly meetings? Who on the whole _universe _proposed it? Goddamn geniuses.

Five people in the same meeting held back their sighs, but none was more angered by this but him.

England's mind was in shambles. _Bloody wankers, arranging __**weekly **__meetings, of all the possibilities in this planet, _he thought to himself bitterly. Not only he had to deal with an annoying micronation waking him up from his average sleep, he was now with the company of an obnoxious superpower excuse of a country in the Western Hemisphere, AKA United States of America, who was announcing trivial plans aloud.

He clamped his hands onto his ears to block out the incessant chatter, thus to avoid assaulting him and avoid angering the livid Germany even more. _Just refrain listening to the cretin, just block his voice out and you can pull yourself together, England. It's no skin off your nose, not at all, and it will work out just fine..._

"Iggy! Earth to Iggy!" America was all but shouting in front of him, the older nation unaware that he had shut his eyes closed in his train of thought. Drearily he opened his eyes to face the blue eyes of his adopted brother that screamed the question: 'Are you reminiscing about the past?'.

_Oh, sod it._

Before America could register what was happening, England had jumped off his seat, lunged forward in an attacking position, and tackled the former, choking him all the while as the other nations stood from their seats in worry.

"_Angleterre!_" shouted France, jumping from his chair so violently it fell over, and hurried forward to pull England away from America, who in turn was punching and kicking his assailant violently. Then _Switzerland, _of all people, rushed to restrain England as China pulled the angered America away, Italy in tow. The remainder nations could only watch, unable to comprehend the scene before them. Germany, as in a bad mood as he was, ended up being flabbergasted. It was then when he looked at the calendar on his mobile phone.

It was the second day of July, two more nights before that fateful revolution.

* * *

Romano silently observed his brother, who paced around the restroom to wait for Germany.

"You're staying over with that kraut-breath again, idiot?" he finally grumbled out, irately raising an eyebrow as Italy jumped up in surprise.

"Ve~ I am. It's not like it's a big deal, right _Fratello_?"

"You're an idiot."

"W—What? Why, _Fratello_?" Italy asked, looking shocked. "I like staying with Germany!"

Romano only scoffed back in reply, eyes locked into a glare in the cubicle of the washroom.

Prussia watched the two brothers with piqued interest, silently noting how Romano happened to be annoyed at nothing more than his brother's presence. Often he would suddenly appear to shock the ones he observed, but this time he was laying low. It was interesting how they were close but had a thin barrier enclosed around them that prevented bonding together. He and Germany lacked that barrier, despite of what it appeared to be. Well, for France and America, anyway.

"Ah, Romano, _guten tag._ What are you doing here?" Germany's uncertain voice piped in, the blond running a hand through his hair self-consciously.

"Shut up, potato bastard. I'm here to escort my stupid, bumbling _fratello _home," growled Romano with an air of threat, glaring daggers at Germany. Then, the older sibling violently yanked on Italy's collar, dragging the yelping nation away.

Prussia held back a laugh. _So overprotective and jealous, eh? I wonder what he and West will be like together._

Only when Germany himself left the washroom had Prussia appeared from nowhere with a mischievous grin. He is _so _going to tell this to Spain.

* * *

France sighed in relief as he returned to his comfortable house, a modest one compared to his public extravagance with accessories.

"_Angleterre, stop pretending, will you? You're head over heels and you keep denying it!"_

_"Why will I ever fall for someone, __**someone **__who happens to be the same gender as I? I'm no homosexual!"_

He shook his head. _Angleterre knew, he knew from the beginning and he was utterly clueless to the truth that __**she **__was aware._

He unlocked the door to his house and collapsed on a reclining armchair, allowing exhaustion to take over him. He rested his head and closed his eyes.

_It has been centuries, Angleterre. __**She **__knows this whole time. There was more than one reason __**she **__idolized that person._

_It was not romantic, not at all, it was because __**she **__was relieved that __**she**__ wasn't alone._

The feeling of sleep quickly overtook him in the dark room.

* * *

End Chapter Two.

A/N: The second nation is being teased!  
Sadly, I am still unsure whether to put up pairings or not. If there are to be, it will **definitely **not be GerIta or Spamano.  
Edited Chapter One for your convenience. I failed to notice.

_**Slight grammatical corrections and added horizontal lines: 08/27**_

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


	3. Chapter 3

"Stop the car. I feel like throwing up."

The grey vehicle they were riding on skidded to a stop, and a door was swung open, the passenger unceremoniously running towards the end of the wide bridge and belching. Strongly.

"Are you alright, _fratello_?" Romano asked, pulling the windows down as she observed Feliciano kneel in his fit. _Odd of him to vomit__in this time being,_the older sibling thought, shaking her head in a calm disposition.

Then, Feliciano stood, appearing disgusted with his previous act, as he immediately went back to a standing position and grabbed a sterile tissue, wiping his mouth with it before throwing it into the riverbanks. He consequently re-entered the car, sighing and rubbing his temples.

"I _knew _I was going to regret coming with Germany to that bar," he finally grumbled with his pent-up vexation. Romano rolled her eyes in return as her hands returned to the steering wheel and started the engine.

"That is why hangovers are never good for your health," she said, looking at her brother. _Sometimes being older has its benefits._

* * *

While things leaned towards the better for her, after the last two weeks as Romano's bruise had healed completely, and Italy was all but relieved for it, the northern half's present state was, say, not going so well as the former's.

"We can build a **ginormous **dam to cover the whole Atlantic Ocean! But we really, really need to have docks so ships can pass through and then..."

Germany was having a major migraine, from both the hangover and America's ever obnoxious "plans", and Italy was having an internal struggle as to not drum his fingers to tune out the unnecessary noise, the headache and persistent feeling of dizziness not helping him in the case.

While Italy had a hard time pulling out the act of idiocy, the other nations were even more bothered on how no one seemed to stop America. England was not doing anything to at least interrupt his former charge, possibly in retaliation to the incident two weeks ago. France was being unusually snobby, not grabbing any attention and only jeering whenever someone tried to coax him.

To put it simply, this meeting was going down the drain towards the worse.

"..Perhaps we could even build one in the Pacific! Then there's lots of renewable energy."

"I am starting to doubt that my neutrality will last." Switzerland was haphazardly spinning a pistol with his fingers, his eyebrows rising icily as the oblivious American continued to announce his ideas.

Russia's 'kolhoz' chant began to form, as many of the nearby nations, notably the Northern Europeans, felt the enigmatic aura taking hold of the surroundings.

"...And the rest of the G8 will help me with this project with no other complaints!"

England visibly spluttered, opening his mouth to no doubt yell in rage at the powerhouse. Germany forgot all signs of his migraine, and shot up from his seat with a livid expression. France, for the first time in eighty years, no doubt appeared to be positively infuriated. Japan lost his composure and passiveness, both palms slamming into the table as the Asian looked like he was about to give a blow-by-blow rant. Canada gawked at his brother with all the signs to just begin _reprimanding _him, Russia's aura went on in full spring, causing the Baltics and even his sisters to scoot away in fear of being murdered.

The sound of a scraping chair against the floor threw the six into even more of their anger, as Italy slowly rose up from his seat, hazel eyes burning with pure anger that he had never shown ever since the formation of the G8.

"Do you even **know **what you've been telling us for over thirty minutes of this meeting?" Canada had all but yelled out loud, earning stares from everyone in the room. Italy, in this short while, immediately returned to his seat, face flushed.

Spain and Romano had another thought in the matter, and that was the fact that Italy nearly _slipped._

* * *

"Aren't you willing to go home?" Spain asked for the fifteenth time in the meeting's second break. "Roma can always be in your place, and you know it."

"Her seat is situated _two _chairs from France. I can't afford a lascivious nation knowing the truth."

"And still your actions don't always make sense. It's not like he'll grope her or anything." To which Spain only recieved a small huff as Italy continued eating his salad, a meal he rarely ate in public. The fact that he was only seen eating pasta had raised the question of how he had gotten his well-toned muscles and speed (when if one was curious enough to raid local papers, it would be revealed he had a permanent membership with about ten gyms all around Italy. Then there was the fact that he followed the normal Mediterranean diet).

"I _am_here for her, and you know it. Now **you're **the one getting the overprotective-jealous vibe."

Italy nearly choked on the lettuce he was munching, and hazel eyes the size of saucers looked at green ones as the nation grabbed a nearby glass of water and downed it in one shot.

"I— **What**?" he finally stammered after finding his voice. Spain only shook his head, eyes shining with mischief.

"Are you trying to tell me that you _think_I'm in love with a boy?" asked Italy with disbelief lacing his falsetto voice. Then his usually hidden tone returned. "That's sick of you!"

The glint in Spain's eyes vanished. Italy just_had_to remind him that the former was no more tolerant of homosexuality as the Catholic Church. _Screw that Vatican City is more Northern than South!_a voice screamed in his mind, though he pushed it away at the last minute.

"...Do I also need to remind of how badly I wanted to strangle Germany after pulling that... _thing_off?" Italy continued, unaware at the state of mind Spain was in. "It was a fortune he had to space out."

"Okay," Spain replied blankly, not really listening to the Italian.

"_Italien_! You're running late again!"

Italy stood up and set down his finished salad rather irately.

"I'll take my time to give Germany a three-hour rant after we're done with this web-weaving."

Spain just followed him out of the office.

* * *

"_Idiota, _you've said you were feeling sick and you're still not going home? Tch," Romano jeered with evident venom in his voice, glaring at his younger and more oblivious brother. "Damn dimwit wants to stay with the potato-bastard more."

The Southern Italian had a leg propped up above the table, much to the distress of Spain and North Italy, who, as usual, was close to Germany.

While Germany found the more mafia-related Italian frustrating (that table had just been cleaned), he had failed to clear the events earlier, and his mind was more focused on it. Though America acted like nothing had happened, as usual, the Canadian's outburst proved surprising. France himself had congratulated the semi-invisible guy for 'getting a spine', and England was surprised speechless. Another matter was the ditz of them all, Italy. Just before Canada had yelled at his brother, Italy appeared like a long-lasting fuse in his patience had exploded violently, and he swore that the hazel eyes he often did not see was burning like embers in a pitch-black location. He shuddered inwardly. _If Italien had said out whatever he wanted to say._

"Germany, maybe we can eat pasta in the next meeting, since you have paperwork to do, ve~"

Germany's lips twitched. His friend was a master in making people around him smile, even when they're focused in other subjects.

"You are **not **going to that kraut-fucker's house, you dipshit!"

His smile vanished as fast as it appeared, as the darker Italian nation stepped closer towards them both, infuriated and **utterly **about to pull the naïve nation away.

_If only South Italy isn't here to ruin the day._

* * *

End Chapter Three.

A/N: I forgot to add this, but this story will have real-life matters thrust into it. In effect, it will slightly be historically accurate. Some have been added here already, such as the Catholic Church's opinion on homosexuality.

The following chapter will be posted next week in Friday.

EDIT: Updated horizontal lines in the other chapters.

Response to Reviewer TheDeadOne28: I am starting to lean towards Germano, in an unfortunate turn of events.

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


	4. Chapter 4

"So, what are your true feelings regarding Holy Rome?"

At that simple, innocent(?) question, Italy nearly spat on his drink. But then Prussia and Germany were there, sitting close by. And that the albino was the questioner.

"I like him~" he finally answered, hoping to elude from the topic before it goes further. This was one topic **absolutely **off his radar of tolerance.

"Oh?" He heard the questioning tone in Prussia's voice, and a small 'kesese'. "No love or _other _feelings?"

_Shit._

_**Thwack!**_

Italy looked up with confusion, only to see Prussia rubbing the back of his head with an annoyed Germany looking even more flustered than ever. Afterwards, Italy set down his glass of wine on top of the desk in front of him and waited in silence.

Then he felt vibrations in his pocket. Gingerly he pulled out the mobile phone to see Romano calling him, and Germany gave his ally a funny look, clueless to the situation.

"Hello, _fratello?_"

Germany did not hesitate. Frankly enough, he had dragged Prussia upstairs and into bed just after Italy said his older brother's name. That didn't stop them from hearing the ensuing conversation.

"Eh? What kind of emergency?"

Nevertheless, Prussia eavesdropped, even while being pulled by the arm and into the bedroom.

"Am I calling the hospital, ve?"

_If only West isn't dragging me off,_mused Prussia as he heard a 'click' and the creak of the door opening.

* * *

That was exactly how Italy managed to himself from Germany.

Now, he was swiftly rushing up the staircase of his house, anxious to whatever had happened in his absence. He slammed the door of the bedroom open, and nearly tripped over the carpet for running too fast.

He only saw a dimly lit lamp on top of the cabinet, Romano snuggled asleep under the blankets of the queen-sized bed. The half-afraid call seemed to have been nothing but a false alarm.

He was about to just turn around to leave and go to his own room when hazel eyes alighted the blankets again.

They were different in appearance.

He took notice of the laundry basket and found a blood-red piece of cloth wrapped in a plastic bag, and his suspicions were confirmed in that instant.

_Her period just came early._

He stepped away, not knowing that there was a particularly slippery spot on the floor where something was rubbed off earlier, and the next thing he knew was that he was falling down to the ground. In an attempt to grab any nearby object for support, an alarm clock fell down to his head, and did no help in his tumble downwards and into the living room.

Romano instantly heard a crashing sounds and jumped from the bed, to the opened door, and right towards the stairs.

She called 112 immediately.

* * *

Emergencies occurring just before a summit— that was fortunate enough to be just **five **days following the half-chaotic meeting, and the unfortunate incident— brought no good to those in their paths. Especially Spain, who had volunteered to accompany Romano after the event back in their house that confined Italy to a bed (as he had fallen down the staircase, he dislocated his right knee). Thankfully, none of the remaining members of the summit took it warily, and that meant they had time to prepare for it.

"We need more padding, goddamn it," grumbled Romano as she tightened her bindings in front of a mirror, Spain located opposite her. The latter was not looking, as he was busily inspecting the gray military suit Romano was to wear, to give a different look against the beige uniform. "Is the suit alright?"

Spain held the suit and held onto the padding to check it, fingers gracing the ends of the sleeves as he patted the shoulder side.

"It's alright," he answered, still kneeling as he came to pick it up and—

Spain found the suit being worn by Romano in a split second, the Italian grabbing a pair of shoes and tying it in a panic.

"Roma?"

Too late. Romano was already running down the hall and into the conference. Spain hurriedly put on his jacket and chased after her with a pant.

* * *

A mahogany door was violently swung open, the familiar faces of Romano and Spain appearing behind it as they sat next to each other. Romano scoffed at the only other nation present, France. The flirt didn't care at all, as he had a smart phone in his hands, playing some kind of game for the meantime.

England was the next to give an entrance, stepping calmly into the room, suitcase in hand as he took a seat in the spot closest to the whiteboard that would serve no other purpose than for screening with the projector present.

"Good morning," he greeted, placing his suitcase down the table and taking out a laptop, knowing full well that the three fellow nations will only ignore him. France's eyes barely moved from his phone, still doing his business. The Brit then produced a pile of paperwork and set it down just beside the laptop, and subsequently began typing.

Germany was the fourth person to show some sense of punctuality, arriving exactly as the wall clock ticked 9:30 AM, the time set for their arrival. He also carried a suitcase with him, and then calmly took a pen and began signing paperwork.

The silence continued, Romano half-asleep with both legs propped on the table, Spain also starting to read his papers, France still using his phone, Germany signing paperwork, and England typing his documents.

* * *

The time was 11:00 AM, yet America and Canada had still yet to show their presences.

Russia had arrived at around 9:50, saying that Belarus had locked him in his room for a while and refused to let him out. By this hour, all the other present nations had finished their jobs and were patiently (or more appropriately, whatever was left of their patience) waiting for the latecomers.

Finally, the door was opened once more, America and Canada entering the place and sitting down and offering no reasons for their tardiness. Unlike the previous meetings, Canada was easily noticed, the others acknowledging him as a member. Obviously, it had rubbed off on all of them.

America flashed a grin towards the others, haughtily turning on the projector as they braced themselves for impact.

"And now I am showing my plans to improve the economy!"

"Or probably throw the world into an economic collapse like the Great Depression," England added under his breath, to which they agreed at once.

* * *

"'Great' ideas? Lies." England threw the next pebble into the lake, watching as it bounced several times above the surface before bobbing down. The good news with summits involving only the G8 was that they had two-hour breaks, and England dutifully left the building that instant and into the lake so he could continue ranting about America, all the while hurling pebbles to steam off some anger.

_Git! Be more trivial, you sodding fool! It happens to be completely unnerving! Keep chagrining yourself, for all I care!_

He angrily threw his eighth pebble, and it flew in the air for over ten seconds before falling down the center of the lake.

* * *

Meanwhile, Germany was walking down the halls, looking for a spare room in the building. Misfortunes happened to have gotten him to see a half-naked Chinese dressing up, and a Russian who was about to bury _something_in the next room.

He browsed through locked doorknobs, until he turned one that didn't stuck.

He sighed in relief that his search was over, and pushed it open with a flourish.

The sight in it made him instantly regret his decision.

Romano paled at the German in front of the doorway, Spain just behind her as he froze from rebinding the bandages.

**Wham!**

Germany was instantly knocked out by a kick delivered by Spain, and a cracking noise was made as the nation limply dropped to the floor.

* * *

"He just **saw **me! We can't possibly leave him!"

"We've knocked him out for over five hours. He'll possibly think he's dreaming."

"Possibly? **Possibly**? We are not taking any chances at all!"

"I know. But making him believe he had hallucinated can work out for the better."

"I'm calling Feliciano **right now**."

* * *

Germany snapped an eye open, carefully adjusting to the almost blinding light entering his vision. Upon seeing that he was in a mattress, in an unfamiliar room, he sat up instantly, and checked his surroundings. Surprisingly for being kidnapped, he was not chained to the bed post. In fact, he was left in a comfortable position the whole time, a blanket neatly placed on him.

He stood up, and his vision swam from the sudden movement. Carefully he walked towards the door and snapped it open, about to walk out of the room. He took a careful step.

Then he suddenly lost his footing and slid to the ground. Now, he was unsure whether he had been caught off guard or that his captor was stronger than him: he was hoisted up immediately and pulled back to the bed, hands on a firm grip with his shoulder. He looked up to see none other than Spain, who scowled at him as another man entered the room.

"_Italien_?" he said, his voice an empty echo as he tried not to look surprised at the epiphany.

Italy gave a dark look at Spain for a second, then he shook his head slightly.

"You were the biggest threat in blowing the act. Curious and at the same time determined," a feminine voice said, as Italy stared at his former ally with moderate surprise. "Tch, you indeed are a kraut-breath."

He leaned towards Germany with a slight raise of the brow, glancing at Spain with a sigh before waving his colleague off, along with the silhouette on the door.

"We need to talk."

* * *

"Well, that was amusing," said Romano as she and Spain retired to a couch, exhausted from having to carry the German all the way back home, as Italy was still in the verge of recovery (he was absent from the meeting because he was advised not to leave his house. Damn doctors).

Spain immediately fled to the kitchen, reappearing later with two glasses of water, while Romano had produced a remote control and turned on the plasma TV in front of them to watch a film.

"I **do **hope that his rant will indeed go on for three hours..."

* * *

"Rewind, rewind. What did you say again?"

Germany straightened himself up and looked at the ranting Italian, who was muttering inaudible curses while pacing in the room.

"They will know this charade in the end, _Italien. _Just reveal the truth, then walk away."

Italy laughed darkly, before throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Now **you're **the one who is telling me to give up. I started this game and there's no way you will order me to resign!"

Germany resisted the urge to slap a palm flat on his face.

"You're fully aware you are going to the losing side!" Italy ignored him and fell back to the bed with a muffled groan.

"I'm not finishing it," Italy finally grumbled out, his voice muffled but loud. "Win or lose, I'm still doing this." He stood up and took one last look at Germany.

"And you're assuredly keeping your mouth shut or I'm doing it myself. Now get lost."

Germany let out a deep breath. His ally had no plans to end this act.

* * *

Romano's busy movie night was interrupted by the noise of loud footsteps, one that belonged to none other than Germany.

She cocked her head to the side as Germany did not at all greet them, but opened the door and left. Just like that.

Spain watched everything with a loss for words. Whatever Italy said must have been enough to shut Germany up. And worse, it might just be the end of a friendship.

"Shit. I'll go talk to _fratello._"

Romano fled upstairs as Spain tried to comprehend what was happening as of the time being.

* * *

End Chapter Four.

A/N: And Germany and Italy's fragile friendship is brought to the point of shattering. Will it be a breaking point? And will Italy ever let go of his perspective along the matter and stop being stubborn along the way?

Additional: Next chapter in about two to three weeks! Life is being the fickle fellow he is right now, and I am swamped by trouble once again. With the layout for the whole story done, however, there won't be a discontinuation. A hiatus, perhaps, but I am certain it will be finished soon.

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


	5. Chapter 5

There were noticeable differences in the next World Conference.

One was that Italy was not clinging to Germany as usual. In fact, the normally happy-go-lucky nation sat alone in his chair, glaring— yes, glaring— at a piece of paper he held. Lithuania, often coming close to the kind nation so he could have someone to talk to, had slithered away, to keep away and avoid worsening whatever he was going through. Spain and Romano were utterly devastated. It was indeed a clash that had occurred two nights before; no wonder Italy had declined to have a say in the matter. The two nations didn't really care for the act they were meant to do, instead looking at Italy with the same worry. Even though the nation denied it, in front of them anyway, he still cared for the strict nation.

That easily explained the bad mood he was currently wallowing in.

Secondly, Romano was fidgeting nervously on his seat, staring at his younger brother anxiously. _How horribly out of his way to act like this,_Japan mused to himself. Whatever had happened to put the Italians in a state meant it was big to their personal lives. England had furiously typed out if there was some sort of disaster back in Italy, and didn't see any alarming updates. The blonde slid back to his chair and started thinking.

Thirdly, _Germany_was being passive. Ever since the meeting he had not spoken a word, letting America and Britain to speak for themselves. France watched the whole events unfold with interest, as he sipped a glass of wine. _Oh, if I could only find out what had potentially caused the Italian and German's fallout. _Nevertheless, France turned away with boredom in his seductive features.

Japan felt a shiver run up his spine as he absorbed the implications. One thing was certain for the observant Japanese nation: it involved all the three affected. His suspicions on Italy were being slowly proven. That moment where he had laid eyes on the Italian with his mind-reading binoculars proved to be one of the biggest accidental discoveries he made. He first thought it was all but his imagination; until he felt a temporary gaze after he turned around.

He knew that Italy was carefully examining him from that short period of time. An amazing mask the nation wore all the while, indeed, carefully detailed and fitted exactly to the wearer. This was a moment he had been waiting for, where he could finally see through the cracks. Silence is bliss, observance is futile. He hummed to himself as America appeared in front of the podium.

_What games are you playing, Itaria?_

* * *

Italy's lack of chatter and noise proved _very _unnerving; in fact, Russia himself had avoided talking with Italy, who did nothing but listen, jotting down notes on a small journal that fitted a pocket.

Britain wasn't immune to the weird attitude of two Axis members. Emerald eyes quickly moved back and forth from Italy to Germany, with more focus on the former. While Germany's silence is not unheard of, thanks to several... troubles occurring in Europe, Italy being aggressive, in a sense, could drive one to believe that he had switched bodies with Romano. The last time they caught sight of an angry Italy was back in the World Wars.

But there happened to be no war or dispute of any kind.

He noted Romano's fidgeting, examining the nation's open expression of anxiety. His mind rolled to one conclusion.

_Something was utterly off and about here._

Something in his mind clicked, and he grinned for finding it out so easily. He'll return them to normal in no time, and there will be no further scandals about his magic use. A long-time revenge against that frog France who spread those rumors.

None of the nations took notice of an ominous aura forming around England, whose pent-up anxiety has really gotten to him.

* * *

"_Itaria-kun, chotto matte kudasai!"_

Japan wasn't certain if Italy really understood his language, but he was relieved when the brunette spun around, hazel eyes open with intensified surprise.

Japan was silently hoping that Italy would suddenly smile and yell out 'pasta' in the loudest voice he can do, just to disprove his theory once and for all despite the many times he observed.

Only that Italy didn't even show the signs of a slight smile, and kept wearing that scowl on his face.

"_Itaria?_" he finally said with uncertainty, taking in the cold eyebrow raise of his friend and ally. "I understand you're in a bad mood to whatever had happened to you and Germany, but why act like this?"

The brunette was silent, and Japan gulped nervously. He continued, "Are you hiding something?"

If Japan wasn't the observant nation, he wouldn't have noticed Italy's eye twitch. He sighed as he knew he would have to spill the beans.

"I— I happened to have spied on you more than once with my binoculars."

Hazel eyes narrowed dangerously back at him.

"Why?"

Simple as that, the question came. And Japan was sure as hell that it wasn't going to go nicely.

* * *

"Dear heavens, what's taking him _so _long?"

Accurately speaking, Romano and Spain had been impatiently waiting outside the restroom since the last thirty minutes of the meeting, making up the best of excuses to flee mid-term.

"Now that I notice it, he and Japan haven't left this room..."

Romano choked and outright glared at her adoptive father, daunted on how dirty his mind is.

"_Cazzo,_ stop suggesting lewd things they're doing in there," she mumbled, not removing the glare she had placed previously. Spain replied with an equally nonplussed look.

"I am more worried if Italy isn't murdering his ally right now, remembering he's in a bad mood and all."

Both nations exchanged a horrified look, pale as snow being shone upon by the daylight.

It was Romano's hand that reached for the doorknob in that instant, and it quickly turned, making a soft _click_that preceded the sound of a door opening.

Italy's head turned around in lightning reflex, a hand on a strong grip on the more stoic Asian who was not looking any more composed as the brunette. They simply stared at Romano and Spain, annoyed at the unwanted intervention.

"You." A gaze directed right on the mildly suggestive lean Italy was supposing. How Japan happened to be backing off to the wall was not helping. "_Ahem._"

Romano looked completely discomforted at the fact that Spain was as red as the tomatoes he adored, the... _compromising _position two former Axis members were assuming, and that she was in a men's restroom.

"_Ah, Romano-san, Sei-sama, domo sumimasen. _Italy and I were only discussing about private matters," Japan quickly spoke up, hiding his unease as Italy's grip on his shoulder only strengthened.

Romano's eyebrow rose from its resting place, high enough that it nearly vanished in her dark brown locks, while Spain kept track of the heated air in the room.

"Oh, really?" both questioned at the same time, voices laced with every bit of suspicion.

* * *

"_Iie,_ it was only an interrogation!" Japan denied, nervously looking at the three Mediterranean nations giving him curious looks. He held his hands up, shaking his head continuously.

"Stop giving him _that_stare, Veneziano," Romano hissed as she pushed her brother away from Japan. Italy let out a groan of frustration, but stopped there and did not complain any more, turning away.

Romano pointed a finger at her brother and his ally with an annoyed expression.

"What kind of interrogation?" she asked, voice dropping lowly into that of a slight growl. Japan gulped in fear, almost about to pass out.

* * *

"Italy, giving Germany, of all nations, the cold shoulder? Unheard of." France dutifully sipped a glass of red wine, staring at Prussia calmly.

"Throughout the whole meeting," added the albino in a serious voice, stealing a glance at his brother. "Italy looked like he wanted to strangle West."

They looked at the aura surrounding England, feeling familiar chills run down their spine. Prussia looked up.

"France, you have an idea what England is thinking?"

"Not that I care, but yes, England is showing the warning signs."

The former nation nodded, red eyes locking at the vengeful purple aura that could out power Russia's.

* * *

For the meanwhile, Japan explained the restroom encounter. When he had finished, there were three shocked brunettes gawking at him.

"You knew it all along?"

Japan merely nodded before waving a hand at both Spain and Romano.

"_Hai. _But to think that _Itaria-san _was the mastermind— no, not really. I only believed he had a hidden side," he said, staring at them. "I was mistaken."

No one was taking it as badly as none other than Romano.

"Do they know? The others?" she asked, almost dumbfounded. She partly feared that he would tell the rest of the Asian nations. That worry was cut short as he mouthed a quiet 'no', shaking his head.

"_Chugoku-san _would have pulled me to a mental institution if I tried."

Spain nodded in acknowledgement, and Italy only shook his head harder. Romano patted his shoulder with a sigh.

Japan stared at them all with a look that suggested curiosity.

"_Eto..._Shouldn't we return to the meeting? We have been here for nearly an hour," Japan spoke up with uncertainty. "They'll think something is off."

Italy stopped him from continuing further, and stared at his ally.

"Japan, do you give me your utmost sincerity that you will keep this truth to yourself, until I tell you otherwise?"

Japan tried not to shudder in slight shock. He never really heard Italy assume a menacing tone, but he sensed that it was shaded with worry, and he was fully aware that there was no turning back.

"I will agree to the terms," he finally replied, before lowering his voice into that of a whisper. "but I have a compromise."

Only Italy could hear the next statement, the whisper barely audible.

"I wish for us, the Axis Powers, to talk about this as soon as possible."

The European agreed with a slight hint of hesitance.

Romano and Spain did not let his surprised expression go unnoticed.

* * *

A/N: Consider this unplanned and earlier release as a present, because there is a threat of a hiatus.

A meeting between the Axis Powers is on the way! Will it be a unification, or their parting ways?

England, meanwhile, is on the border of anxiety and wants to learn something. Will he learn a valuable lesson?

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


	6. Chapter 6

"_Fratello_?" A cute little girl wearing a pink dress asked worriedly, nodding at her brother, who wore white robes and was giving her discreet glances. She nodded at the mysterious men running towards their mansion.

Italy grabbed her by the arm immediately, both of them running towards an abandoned shed. In the darkness, he plopped her to a more comfortable sitting position.

"Where are you going? Spain isn't here yet!" she protested, taking off to follow him, but he made her sit back down.

"No, stay here, please. I'll hold them for now. Just show yourself after they're gone."

He shut the door behind him as he left, with Romano leaning an ear to the wall to hear what is happening.

"Look at that one, she's defenseless!"

* * *

Romano shot up from her bed, grabbing her head in agony as her door opened to reveal Italy, who was smugly smirking at her misfortune.

"I haven't known my dear _sorella _could possibly get night terrors," he drawled, crossing his arms as Romano added a mental groan. _So much for loving me dearly like a daughter,_she thought as he walked inside and turned on the switch of the lights.

He glanced at the window blinds with interest, before his eyes narrowed.

"It's past eight in the morning," he began as if to talk about the weather, while Romano cocked her head in confusion, not yet realizing what he was talking about. He looked at her once more as a hand nonchalantly reached for the bedside clock, and he turned it to face her.

"But then you liked abandoning things at the last minute," he remarked with snide as Romano grew even more confused as to whatever had set him in a better mood despite the state he and Germany were in. "Too bad."

She blinked twice when everything sank in to her mind, and she bolted up to a sitting position in disbelief.

She gasped at her brother's antics and flung a pillow to his face, which he easily caught. He frowned, losing his previously haughty mood as his predicament also caught up to him.

"Don't ruin my suit. I have a meeting to do," he deadpanned, as if he was the older sibling, and his voice by then dripped with discomfort at the revelation.

"Then let me get dressed, and go away!" she retorted, throwing the second pillow in her bed while Italy complied, quickly returning her pillow and shutting the door.

She flung herself back to her bed as she heard retreating footsteps, annoyed at both nightmare and brother.

* * *

Italy glanced at his watch as he turned on the television, hoping that Romano has left before Japan and Germany arrive. He sighed. Ever since the arrival of the 21st Century, he was aware that they had reached the limits of this charade.

_'Secrets do not last forever, my young child,'_the Roman Empire, his grandfather, reminded him.

There were already two out of the seven nations he knew had the full potential to realize the truth. He had planned to give it away once it reached four.

_At this rate, it'll surely take no more than a year. Two months, even._

He briefly wondered what would happen to Romano once they found out. Would they try to gain advantage over her?

But then it dawned on him that it would still be a huge burden off their shoulders, despite Romano's status. Once they knew, he would be willing to fight to the death to protect her, and he didn't have to do it subtly.

He stared as Romano, disguised as she normally was, dashed over to the door and left immediately.

—

Italy was on the boundary of sleeping and waking when his doorbell rang, and he almost crashed face-first into the floor as he answered it, grimacing when he saw Germany's flustered look and Japan looming in the background. Way to ruin his day.

Wordlessly he beckoned the two nations to sit in the living room, and they let it be, relieved that it was fairly normal. When he suddenly pulled every single blind down in the room, they became aware of the sheer graveness of this _talk._

Germany sent an uncertain look, while Italy sighed deeply.

"I was wondering—"

"—if I would give it out?" Italy interrupted smoothly, not letting the blond speak, "The answer is yes and no."

"_Ah, Itaria-san,_I do not understand your use of the double-edged words," Japan piped in, looking embarrassed at his unwanted intervention, and Italy's more sensible attitude. Even Germany felt queasy. It was akin to having your closest friends replaced by an impostor. But that would have to wait.

"You mean you're not giving up?"

Italy just frowned, and for that quick while Germany almost saw _Romano_in him.

"What do you think I'm going to do? Run into the room and yell, 'you know what? Romano's a girl and I'm pretending to be this pasta-bumbling idiot'? That's stupid." He stood up from his chair and stared at thin air inside the dimmed room.

"It's been over a thousand years. I know we just walked into the line. But it's not easy to just reveal the truth you have practically caged for your lifetime! Then there's that lecherous _France_and _Prussia_! No offense to your brother, but he's completely creeping me out."

Japan and Germany only nodded, unsure of what to say next. Italy did prove his point in not simply saying the truth.

It was Germany who regained his composure.

"Alright, _Italien,_we keep quiet, but in the event that someone finds it out, you will abide to the truth," he said, giving out his hand to ensure that Italy agreed to it. The brunette accepted it with a calm look.

In the corner of Italy's eye, Japan gave him a knowing gesture.

* * *

Germany sighed with a grimace, seeing Italy's intent stare at the backing Japan.

"I happened to— _Italien_?"

The brunette averted his gaze, but gestured for Germany to continue nonetheless.

"I happened to have wondered this, why pretend?"

Germany did not receive a response, Italy momentarily gawking at him, before his expression returned to that of coldness.

Knowing that Italy wasn't going to spill information out, Germany just shook his head.

"Italy, meet me near the bay. We need to talk."

* * *

"_Das tut mir leid, Italien._"

"You're sorry for what?"

Finally, after an hour of pointless bickering that had led to nowhere, something else sprung up.

Germany shrugged slightly, staring at his friend's hazel eyes.

"For yelling at you back then," he finally answered after a minute of silence, "I hurt your feelings."

"Why would I be hurt? **_I_**started this. I was aware of what would the consequences be. In fact, _I _should've been the one to have asked for forgiveness because I tricked the whole planet!"

"_Nein._" Italy batted a piqued eye as Germany gripped his arm.

"You only protected your family. Say, if _Bruder _was in the same predicament, I'd waste no time in forcing others to shut up," he said simply, while Italy noticed his loss of level-headedness in the subject. "It's not your fault, and don't you say sorry to me."

Those last words were definitely an order, and Italy just smiled.

For once, it was his sincere smile, and Germany shuddered slightly.

"I can't believe I spent over seventy years befriending a total stranger."

"And I cannot bring myself to the fact that I've lied to someone I somehow cared for."

"So, we'll start over?"

Italy flashed his friend a suggestive look.

"Even if we don't know about each other, if you wish."

Both Europeans sighed in relief that the short ordeal that felt like years was finally over.

Somewhere away from the bay, an ebony-haired man looked at the reformed friends, and his eyes flashed with satisfaction.

* * *

A/N: I know. Fast-paced and short, but I couldn't really condense it. It is a humor-themed story, after all. Then there's the slight unease of the lack of Allies.

Well, if England appears, shit is going down the drain.

Next chapter won't probably be up until November. Life is being a bitch.

Additional Update: A reader [name redacted] asked me about some... girl-restricted topics. I have to point out that I am not a female, to clear up confusion. In fact, I have previously desired to keep this subject ambiguous, being in a predominantly-female community. Unfortunately it seems I will no longer to hold on to that.

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


	7. Bonus Chapter

_A/N: This is a deleted chapter. I have only put it up here for entertainment purposes._

_Also, a poll to decide which story to continue. I advise that you read both before you pick your choice._

**_Warning:_**_Very, very cracky. May or may not cause the reader insanity._

* * *

England was not frowning. No, he was not in any way being a moron who jumps to conclusions, much to others' frustration.

To hell with that lie.

**_She _**knew of how he had found it out for himself in the First World War. Worse, there was even another ally also getting his suspicions, and it was because of _**her! **_To top it all, he dealt with the Italies' weird behaviour a few days ago, and it still bugged him.

He stared at an old piece of parchment and let out a deep sigh. Even when his anxiety has worn off, he had to use that thing France dared call nonsense.

* * *

Waking up at 4 o' clock in the morning with chills that were not caused by cold climate meant a bad thing, Germany knew, but as he was slightly tired from last night, he instantly slept it off, and returned to his dreams of wurst, potatoes, and a dash of bondage.

Little did he expect what was coming to him and his company as soon as the sun rose, and it wasn't worth the word 'pleasant'.

* * *

"Roma! Open the door!"

Italy was annoyed beyond comprehension. Not only had Romano locked the door (not that he minded, since he had a spare key) behind, it was 6 AM in the morning, the meeting was _just_three hours away*, and she still hasn't risen up. He knocked on the door again, now making it harder.

After about sixteen retries, he finally gave up, and nearly punched the door in his anger.

"_Sorella! _Oh, damn it!"

Muttering incoherent curses, he dashed to a nearby cabinet and grabbed the keys, returning to the door, and rush-unlocking it.

He saw the room perfectly intact, with the exception of a small bump under the covers of a mauve blanket that looked interesting, to say of the least of his expectations.

He quickly pulled it away, cautiously in that he was hoping that it wasn't some ransom letter or...

Near the mansion overlooking the sea, a loud, horrified howl could be heard in the whole country, even reaching a country that is renowned for its share of tomatoes, and the nation involved in the matter.

* * *

Japan groggily sat up in his _futon,_unnerved at the fact that it was only 6:20 in the morning and someone was calling him. He grabbed hold of the phone and clicked the answer button.

"_Ohayō gozaimasu,_this is the nation of Japan speaking."

"Japan! This is Spain! Italy told me to call you immediately! You need to go to their house!" Spain all but yelled in an alarmingly louder rate. Japan held the gadget at arm's length to save his eardrums.

He nodded tiredly in instinct, and looked at the clock. As their travel usually took no more than an hour and a half, and the meeting was in Berlin, he would have no problems. Yet.

"I'll try my best, Mr..." He trailed off, unfamiliar with his caller, and waited politely for an answer.

"Spain! _España!_"

"_Hai, Sei-san,_" he replied, before Spain hung up on him. It was when he rose up, sleep leaving his mind.

Had Spain said that the matter was urgent?

* * *

Indeed, Japan, Germany, and the other aware Axis members were not in for this _unpleasant _surprise.

"Guess the cat's out of the bag, then?" Prussia snickered, trying to cuddle the young maiden, who just gripped onto Italy's leg even harder, the brunette striking the mischievous albino death glares.

"_Fratello? _Why are you so tall now? You were the same height as me when _Nonno Roma _took you," Romano mumbled as Italy (hesitantly) pulled her up to his lap, while Prussia swooned at the sheer cuteness of the young girl.

Then, the young Roma kissed Italy dead-on right in his cheek.

Japan almost squeaked in the adorable moment, tempted to have a hold for his camera and _click_.

Germany blushed as he just stared and did not take his eyes off.

Spain tilted dangerously, about to pass out from the sight. Thankfully he balanced himself, and remained upright.

Italy turned even redder from embarrassment, and he pulled away that instant.

Prussia had a smile that could beat the Cheshire's plastered on his face.

Afterwards, they took it all in.

"You're not going to the meeting, then?" Japan finally began, noting how it was already 8:30. Italy let out a sigh, and gazed at Germany for a short while, the blond waggling an eyebrow in an ominous matter.

"Fine! Fine! I'm going to the meeting!"

With that, Italy huffed loudly, picking the young Roma up and walking away.

* * *

"_Alemania? _I have to say, we are in an interesting predicament, _no?_"

Everyone else was attentively staring at the young girl in a maid's dress staring at them with curious green eyes, as she curiously tiptoed towards England, who grinned uncertainly and picked her up carefully.

"_Ohonhon, _my goodness. Such a pretty niece you have, Italy," France remarked with that libidinous smirk not leaving his features. Said nation sipped his wine, ever so taking glances that tempted Spain to blow the whole operation and strangle his friend.

"Good to see you in a better mood, now," Canada added helpfully. Italy suppressed a groan. It appears it wasn't entirely forgotten, after all.

"Can I keep her, aru?" China asked, eyes shining with full-blown joy at the cute maiden present. To which he felt Spain casting him a death glare that he happily ignored.

They managed to make up an excuse that the young Romano was a niece of Italy's, a young province off in the south. Internally, Germany was expecting England to pay for this incident.

Prussia weaved his way to the girl, uninvited.

"So cute, she could be a good vital—" Slam with Spain's fist. Prussia held his jaw and looked at the brown-haired nation in disbelief, before being pulled (again) to his seat by none other than Germany.

"I've never seen your niece before, right?" Hungary piped in suddenly, intently looking at the child from behind Austria. Italy only nodded.

Russia lacked his threatening aura, staring at Roma with an eerie smile and a glint of _suspicion_in his purple eyes.

"Cute!" yelped the young girl, grabbing England's hair as the latter's smile turned more sincere over time. Kindly, he ran a hand through her hair, while China and America looked on enviously.

Then, England looked up, gazing at Italy with an inquisitive expression.

"Italy, pardon my manners, but if it is possible that I could babysit her, would you—"

Before the blond had finished, a blood vessel on Italy's face popped, and he turned beet red in fury.

"Leave it all to the overprotective brother glory," Spain whispered in a prideful voice, winking at the imminent ruckus as wine bottles flew in the air.

* * *

England groaned in annoyance as his alarm clock rang loudly, remembering how it was going to be yet another World Meeting.

To put it off, he had just found out something else, an awareness that would risk him his reputation for the worse.

And it was that he had seen Hungary's frilly Panties of Justice.

* * *

*In formal meetings, Italians are expected to be often on time or _at least _five minutes late, unless you want to get chewed out. The regulations are less strict as you go further south. As World Meetings can be situated anywhere in Planet Earth, Italy (in this universe) actually spares four hours to prepare. Romano, well...

A/N: Sudden release of drugs and rainbow feces inbound...

And yes, this is a **_deleted chapter,_**written when I was smoking weed and tripping LSD. Forgive me for my antics.

Now, let us play the waiting game for the release of the true chapter, which is not as rainbow_-ish _as this.

Hetalia © Hidekazu Himaruya & Studio DEEN

I do not own the Manga/Anime Series.


End file.
